


One Night

by reciprocityfic (orphan_account)



Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF, Maksyl - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Maksyl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/reciprocityfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - It was supposed to be a one night stand with a hot stranger, but when she becomes pregnant, her life takes a turn, to say the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written based off this prompt I received on Tumblr:
> 
> "After having a one night stand Meryl finds out that she is pregnant with Maks' child."
> 
> Love and thanks to you all, xo.

It was just supposed to be one night.  

Grad school classes started next week, and she was moving into a new apartment in a new city.  She needed an evening to unwind, a night of reckless, no-strings-attached  _fun_  before life came crashing down on her.

And so she went to a club down the street from her building, somehow caught the eye of a really random, really  _hot_ stranger, who was funny and had a hot accent and seemed nice enough.  He took her out on the floor to dance, and the way he moved against her made her feel like a million dollars and one thing led to another led to another and somehow they ended up in her bed.

Which she had no problem with.  While she hadn’t started out the night with the exact purpose of sex in mind, she was hardly opposed to the idea.  And he really  _was_  hot, and the sex was fucking  _hot_ , and when she woke up alone, she wasn’t upset.  She smiled, because this is exactly what she wanted – one night to let loose and let go and be  _stupid_ , without consequences.

Except, she missed her period that month.

Which was strange, because usually she ran like clockwork, but she wrote it off as stress from new classes and homework and didn’t pay it much mind.

Except, then her boobs started getting sore, she started crying all the time, and all she wanted to do was sleep and eat nothing but ice cream and cold pizza.

That’s how she ended up in Rite Aid, perusing pregnancy tests, wondering if it was better to detect earlier or test more accurately, laughing at herself because this was silly and there was  _no way_ she was pregnant.

(She picked the accurate one, just in case.)

There was  _no fucking way_  she was pregnant.

Except, when she peed on that little fucking stick, two pink lines appeared.

So much for no consequences.

She was fucking pregnant.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” she murmured, sitting on the toilet, pants still around her ankles, staring at the test with wide eyes.

She didn’t even know how to  _find_ the guy.  She didn’t have an address, or a phone number.  She didn’t even know his name, for God’s sakes.

So she went with her only option; she put on a semi-presentable outfit because all the tight, sexy ones weren’t fitting quite right around the abdomen, oh  _fuck_ , and marched down to that club, got a damn water, sat at a table and prayed that he liked it here.

He did, apparently.

She spotted him an hour into her night, standing next to the bar talking up some blonde, as strange and hot as ever.  She got up and walked across the room.

“Excuse me,” she yelled over the boom of the music.  Both he and the girl turned their heads to her.  She ignored the blonde, staring straight at him.

“Remember me?” she asked.

He smirked.

“Do I ever.”

A hot blush colored her cheeks.

“Yeah, well.  We need to talk.”

He stared at her questioningly, and motioned towards the woman.

“If you don’t mind,” he told her, “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

She rolled her eyes, and grabbed the lapel of his jacket without waiting for his reaction, tugging him towards the door.

“This is more important,” she shouted back at him.  “Trust me.”

Once outside, she led him around a corner of the building to a dim corner of the street.

“You know,” he frowned, straightening out his clothes, “that was really rude.”

“I’m pregnant.”

He stumbled back, nearly falling over.

“ _What?”_ he gasped.

“I’m pregnant.  And before you ask: yes, I’m sure it’s yours.”

“I thought you were on the pill!”

“And I thought you had a condom on; obviously, we were too drunk to tell.”

He opened his mouth to say something over and over again, like a goldfish.  Nothing came out, though.  She sighed.

“Well, since it looks like you’re at a loss for words, let me continue.  I think it appropriate that we learned each other’s names, not that we made a little human.  I’m Meryl.”

She stuck out her right hand, and after taking a minute to process her request, he reached out, and shook her hand, jaw still hanging open.

He  _did_ managed to breathe, though, “Maks.  I’m Maks.”


	2. Two

If you would have told a month ago that right now, at this moment in her life, she was going to be sitting in a doctor’s office next to a man she’d physically met all of three times in her life, also known as her baby daddy, with some old doctor sticking a lubed up probe up her vagina to make sure baby made with said baby daddy was actually up there, she would have laughed at you and then cried a lot.

And yet here she was. And she was proud to say that she had neither laughed nor cried during this whole process.  She decided that facing the whole thing with a sort of bemused shock might be the best way to go.

“Well, there’s definitely a baby in there,” the doctor said, with a smile.  “Congratulations you two.”

She squinted at the screen, but all she saw was a bunch of black, white, and gray nothing.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“How can you tell?” she heard the guy –  _Maks_.  Damn it, she had to start referring to him as a real person she knew. – ask from beside her.

The doctor wheeled his chair over and circled something on the screen.

“Right there.  That’s your baby.  He’s small, but he’s there.”

To her, it still seemed like he had circled nothing, but she would take the doctor’s word for it.

He took out the probe and ended the ultrasound, telling her that the nurse would be in soon to give some last minute instructions and set up the next appointment.  And then with a smile and another congratulations, he was off.

The awkward quiet of a doctor’s office fell over them.

“Welp,” he said, popping his lips, the sound echoing in the sterile room.

“Welp?” she questioned.

“We’re parents,” he declared, turning to her with a big, cheesy smile on his face.

“Oh my god, don’t say it out loud,” she moaned, rolling her eyes and hopping off the table to put her clothes back on.  She had stripped in front of him to put her gown on without hesitation, and now had no problem stripping it back off to get dressed again.  She was comfortable around him, at least.  Maybe it was because he’d already seen her naked.

Whatever it was, she decided to chalk it up as a good thing.

Just as she was slipping her flats on, the nurse walked in, with another smile and another round of congratulations.  She was sick of hearing that already, but she tried to swallow her annoyance and get used to it.  She’d be hearing that word a lot in the coming months.

As she wrote some notes down on a piece of paper, she looked at the two of them.

“So, how long have you two known each other?”

_Oh shit_ , she thought.

“Awhile,” she mumbled stupidly.

He laughed at her, and she would’ve been pissed if it wasn’t for the fact that she knew he was trying to help her, to play off her dumb answer with a ‘look at my adorable, silly girlfriend’ laugh.  It worked. And the nurse didn’t ask questions, probably because she was polite, but maybe because he was so attractive and his laugh gave her butterflies.  It wasn’t happening to  _her_ , of course, but maybe to the nurse.

“It’s a long story,” he tacked on to the end smoothly.  “Maybe we’ll tell you sometime, when we don’t have somewhere to be right after this. Right, sweetheart?”

He put his hand on her knee. She tried not to stare at him in awe.

He was quick on his feet. She chalked it up as another good thing.

“You definitely will,” the nurse agreed.  “I love first meet stories.  Even if they’re long.”

She suppressed a groan. Yeah, the story would be long alright. So long, it would be the shortest story she’d ever told.

The nurse gave them some basic notes on how to care for herself and the baby in this early stage. After confirming the date of their next appointment and handing them a folder full of informational pamphlets, the nurse left the room.

“We need to think of a cute meet story,” she told him immediately, as she opened the folder and leafed through the literature.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  And get to know each other, so people believe it.”

“Don’t want to tell people about how we really met?” he teased.  When she turned to him, he wiggled his eyebrows.  She met it with a glare.

“God, no.  I’m not telling anyone how we really met except those who would know better is we told them a made-up story.  We’re keeping the number of people who find out we were a one night stand to a minimum.   _Especially_  in my family.  How am I supposed to tell them that I had a one night stand and was idiotic enough to get knocked up in the process?  How am I supposed to tell my  _Grandma_ that?”

“Point taken,” he answered. “Yeah, probably better not to tell the families the truth.”

She got to the back of the folder and, finding a strip of blurry, black-white images, frowned.  Who would want these?  You couldn’t even see anything.

She took the strip out of the folder and handed it to him.

“Here are some pictures, if you want some.”

She closed the folder and walked towards the door.

“Maybe we should get lunch and make up our story, before someone…”

She trailed off when she turns to look at him and found him still standing in the center of the room, staring at the pictures.

“Maks?”

He tore his eyes away from the images, gazed at her for a moment and then smiled.  Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him.

Were there  _tears_  in his eyes?

“Do you want one of these?” he whispered.

She shook her head, and he shoved the strip into his pocket, looking down at the floor and clearing his throat.

“I never, um…I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me for what?” she inquired curiously.

“For not getting rid of him, or her,” he murmured.  “For involving me at all.  You didn’t…you didn’t have to do that, and I’m so,  _so_ happy that you did.  So, thank you.”

She nodded, staring at him with a mix of confusion at his emotion and shock a how…committed he seemed, already.

“You’re welcome, I guess.”

He looked up from the floor slowly, forcing a smile in her direction.

“Lunch, yeah?”

He walked to the door and opened it for her.

“Yeah,” she confirmed breathlessly, leaving the room, his thank-you ringing over and over again in her head.  “Let’s get lunch.”


	3. Three

He took her to some Mom and Pop diner she had never heard of, and grimaced slightly when she saw the worn-out exterior and outdated interior.  As they walked to their table, he whispered in her direction.

“You won’t have that look on your face once you taste their breakfast burritos.”

She pressed her lips together in mild bemusement, and eyed him curiously before sliding into her side of the booth.  He scrunched his eyebrows together as a gray-haired waitress began to approach their table, placemats and silverware in hand.

“What?” he inquired.

She kept running her eyes over his face over and over.

“I’m not sure yet,” she answered honestly.

“What can I get you two?” the waitress – Ethel, a quick perusal of the woman’s worn, faded nametag told her – asked them, placing her hand next to Maks on the booth and leaning casually.

Before she could even open her mouth, he spoke.

“Two waters.  And then we’ll both have breakfast burritos. Salsa and sour cream on the side. Extra cheese on both.”

Her mouth fell open.

“What?” he asked again.

“Maybe  _you’ll_ have a breakfast burrito,” she declares, staring at him pointedly before turning to Ethel, “but I’d like to see a menu, please.”

“Don’t got menus,” Ethel stated blandly.

“You…don’t have menus?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Maks trying to hold back a smirk.  Ethel leaned forward, tapping her temple slowly with her index finger.  

“Keep everything up here,” she explained.  “Now, let’s see.  We’ve got hotcakes, corned beef hash – “

“On second thought,” Meryl interrupted unexcitedly, “I’ll just have the burrito.  And a cup of coffee.”

Ethel nodded once, and then walked away.  Meryl put her elbows on the table, and then rested her head in her hands, exhaling slowly.

“Where the hell did you take me?”

“I’m telling you,” he answered earnestly, “once you try the burrito, you’ll be thanking me.  Also, I hope you know you won’t be drinking that coffee you ordered.”

Her head snapped up at his words, a frown on her face.

“Says who?”

“Says me.  And your doctor, I’m sure, if we asked him.  Caffeine is bad for…you know…”

He trailed off, staring down at the table between them.  Both had trouble admitting it still, even though they had solid proof.  Fessing up to the fact that there was a  _child_  inside her, which the two of them had made.

“Oh,” she murmured. She was torn; she didn’t want to hurt their –  _the_  – fetus, she guessed.

But she really wanted coffee.

“I’ll give you five bucks to let me slip one?” she offered.

He looked up at her from under his eyelids, a wry smile playing on his lips.

( _Fuck,_ she though all of a sudden, seeing him.   _You’re fucking hot_.  She had to admit, if looks counted for anything – and she chalked them up as something that did, for at this point, she was still grasping at straws – she hadn’t picked a bad baby daddy.)

“Not a chance,” he countered.

A moment passed; they both laughed lightly at each other.

“But really,” he began, his features animated, expression bright, “this burrito is to die for. Best hangover cure in New York City, and that’s a fact.”

“Took me out for hangover food for our first date?  Nice.”

The words were out before she knew what she was saying, and she didn’t realize until she couldn’t take them back.

She’d said it.  She’d called this a  _date_.  Like they were some  _normal couple._

“I didn’t…I mean, if you don’t…this doesn’t mean…what I  _should’ve_ said was…”

She was rambling, waiting for him to react, to take charge of situation in some way, whether his feelings were good or bad towards her use of the formal term.

She expected him to talk it away, like he had done so expertly in the doctor’s office.  Or maybe he would just ignore it all together, and they would sweep it under the rug and into the world of things they didn’t want to deal with right now.

Instead, he took her hand.

He surprised her, to say the least.  And he didn’t just squeeze it and let it go, or pat it a few times and go back to folding his hands in front of him.

He took it, and he  _held_ it.  The longer his skin stayed in contact with hers, the hotter the blush in her cheeks grew and the more somersaults he stomach performed.  But she didn’t tell him to stop.  Because her mouth was too dry to form words and she wouldn’t know what to say even if she could speak and it kind of made her feel better, having his hand there, and she didn’t think she really wanted him to stop.

Suddenly, the sound of him gently clearing his throat pulled her out of her thoughts.  She raised her gaze from their hands on the table to his eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up for the briefest second.

“Can only go up from here,” he told her jokingly.  “Right?”

She laughed gently, and then sighed.

“Right.  I guess you’re right.”

He smiled widely at her, and squeezed her hand in his before letting it go.

*             *             *

He opened the door for her as they walked out of the diner.  She walked out onto the sidewalk and turned towards him, folding her arms in front of her as he came to stand next to her.

“That burrito was pretty delicious,” she confessed sheepishly, and he let out a laugh that rang out through the crisp autumn air.

“See?  I told you you’d thank me.”

“And thank you I shall. Who knows, maybe I’ll even come here again.”

“Maybe on our second date,” he answered cheekily, and she gave him a look that made him laugh again.

“Okay, okay,” he relented, shoving his hands into his pockets.  “I’ll take you somewhere different, I promise.”

A beat passed between them, as he stared out over the cars passing, shoving his hands into his pockets. She eyed him, up and down.

“I had a nice time, Maks,” she said, finally.

“I did too.”

He turned back to her, paused for a moment when he saw the expression on her face.

“You always look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she inquired. He shrugged, shaking his head.

“I don’t know.  Like you’re trying to figure something out, or whatever.”

She pressed her lips together, and adverted her eyes to feet against the gray sidewalk.

“Well, maybe I am trying to figure something out.”

“Like what?” he asked.

She sighed, rattled around in her brain until she could answer honestly.

“I’m not sure yet.”

He hummed, staring at her for a moment more before turning his gaze back out into the street.  She continued to study him.

She didn’t know what she was looking for yet, but she had a good feeling about whatever it was.

Deep down inside her, she had a  _good feeling_.


End file.
